


Kaffas

by MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden



Series: Curse My Magic [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dumb templar, Explicit Language, Jealousy, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden/pseuds/MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden





	1. Chapter 1

Cullen woke up naked and alone. He rose and dressed quickly, eyeing the cave for signs of the Inquisitor. His gear was untouched; the staff, robe, and boots she acquired from the venatori still laid out beside it. She musn't have gone far. Cullen slipped on his boots and blood stained shirt, but decided against the rest of his heavy armor. Heading for the door, he felt uneasy, and went back for his sword, looping the belt quickly as he stomped down the rocky corridor. He spotted her instantly, knee deep in the mucky lake a dragon's length away. The morning sun sparkled on the still water, disturbed only by her gentle motions along the shore. Cullen approached her quietly, enjoying the candid moment. She stooped in the water, breaking the ends off a black plant growing within and gathered it in her hands.

He stopped just shy of the dock. "What are you doing?"

Evelyn jolted, screeching as she lost her footing in the muddy water and slipped into the lake, splashing all the way down. Soaked and submerged from the waist down she huffed into her wet mop, "I WAS gathering blood lotus flowers." The ends of her hair flitted across the surface mixed among her lotus blooms.

"I'm s-sorry," Cullen stifled his laughter far better than she could have. He walked down the dock and offered her his hand.

"I should pull you in," she smiled bitterly, splashing a little his way and trudging herself out of the mud. She gripped his hand and he hoisted her onto the wooden planks, feet dangling over the side as she stared into the water. "I was always the least graceful of my sisters," she grinned as the image of her younger brother in her gowns played in her mind, "brother too. Probably for the best I got the magic, never would have survived in the noble courts." She grabbed a handful of thick hair and twisted it between her hands, wringing the water back into the lake.

Cullen leaned back against the tallest pillar and stared fondly at the large stone protruding from island at the center of the lake. "I grew up not far from here," he reminisced, "this place was always quiet."

Evelyn peered over her shoulder at him, admiring his star gazed expression. "Did you come here often?"

"I loved my siblings, but they were very loud. I would come here to clear my head. Of course," he chuckled lightly, "they would always find me eventually."

Understanding dawned on her, "That's why you wanted to see to this mission personally, you were happy here."

"I was," he smiled, turning to look at her, "I still am."

Her heart swelled, all air seemed to flee her lungs and she forgot she was at all angry with him. _So he's strong, handsome, and a secret romantic? I'm doomed. I bet that big dopey smile is back too_. She turned away and brought a hand to her cheek. _Of course_. She felt heat blooming beneath her hand. _And now I'm embarrassing myself._ She drew a deep breath. "Cullen, when we get back to Skyhold -" a wolf's cry interrupted her thought. Cullen unsheathed his sword and beckoned her to stand, offering her his free hand, which she took without hesitation. Quickly springing to her feet, she bunched her robes in her hands and tried to squeeze out the excess water as she crept into the grass, bare feet silent among the blades. The two stepped slowly towards the boulder wall where they heard the howl and peered around it to see a spell binder and his 2 soldiers strike down the final wolf of a small pack. Behind them, an enraged druffalo prepared to charge.

"Who pissed off the big cow?" One yelled, swinging his sword.

The spell binder hit it with a fire ball and the panicked beast ran around them, blazing a trail of flames. "Just kill it. We need to find the Herald or the Commander,"

"Or both!" Interjected the third.

"and take them back to the keep with the others."

Evelyn's throat closed. _Others_?

Cullen slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her towards their hideaway. "Come on, we have to prepare. They will be here soon."

She clenched his arm, "Others, Cullen. They have captives. They have your men. They have our spies. They have my friends."

He said nothing. Just continued to lead her to the cavern and into the den within. He closed the door and latched the crossbeam. Turning around he saw her fretting with the ends of her damp hair, filthy wet robes plastered to her body. He couldn't help himself. He laced his fingers in her hair and smothered her in a heart wrenching kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck and stoked his passion, opening her mouth to suck his in. She felt a tear prickle in her eyes; they were saying goodbye.

Their lips broke apart and he rested his forehead on hers. Finally, he spoke, "I won't let them take you."

She smiled sadly, "it's not me I'm worried about."

"I know," he kissed her breifly and grabbed her arms, "That's what makes you so wonderful." Pulling her hands away and releasing them gently he moved to his pile of armor and began strapping on the pieces.

Evelyn picked up the black robe beside him, fingers playing at the hole through the middle. "I'm running out of options," she grimaced. She grabbed the dagger Cullen often kept in his boot and sat on a nearby stone. Spreading her legs to tense the fabric around her, she stabbed the blade between her knees and dragged it to the floor. Then stood and carefully trimmed the wet cloth all the way around. She spent a few minutes wringing the remaining cloth and attempting to dry it with embered hands, before climbing into the black hooded robe and slipping on the black boots. She picked up the skull topped staff, and whirled it around in her hands. It was lighter than the one she broke in her fall the day before, spinning faster and easier in her palms, though she couldn't help but wonder who sat atop it.

 _She's a talented mage_ , Cullen thought watching her test the new staff. _Clumsy, but talented. If I can take out the spell binder quickly, we should be able to make small work of the other two. As long as they don't have backup._ Cullen looked around the cave. No other entrances. No other escapes. Battle tactics were his expertise, but this was a little different. This wasn't a a seige. It wasn't a field full of men. He didn't even have his shield. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, "Andraste Preserve Us."

Voices echoing in the corridor alerted him of the approaching danger. He grabbed his sword and held it at the ready, prepared for an onslaught.

"We should get away from the door," Evelyn whispered, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the furthest point in the cave, "mages don't barge."

As if on cue, the door blew off the hinges under fire of what was obviously multiple mages. Smoke and debris clouded the air. Evelyn's mind and heart raced. A panicked idea picked at her brain and she pulled the black hood over her head, hurredly stashing away red locks. "Get down. On your knees. Hide your sword."

"Are you mad?"

"Maybe?! Just do it. Keep it nearby."

She grabbed his hair and urged him to kneel, pushing his head down so he was facing the floor. "Evelyn!" he growled through gritted teeth. He could hear the footfalls of metal boots on the stone floor. They sent the swordsman in first. 3? No, 4? He couldn't see anything, no one was speaking, then a pair of pointed toes came into his view, clanking towards them.

"You have their Commander?" Sword pointed towards Evelyn.

Evelyn pulled his hair back roughly and he groaned, snarling and glaring up at the black pointed mask. She focused her thoughts on Dorian and summoned her best imitation. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?!" Shock flooded Cullen's face and he wrestled it back to discomfort as three men fell in behind the soldier. With the air settled, three robed mages came shuffling through the doorway behind them, walking their staves like canes.

"Everyone was to report back last night. Why are you here? Where are your guards?" Snapped a feminine voice from beneath her hooded robe.

"Commander cretin here killed them," she whipped her head in his direction, "Don't worry, though," her voice now sultry, "he's being punished."

The other woman hummed an approval and color swarmed Cullen's cheeks. "Put him in irons, get him back to the keep. My chambers."

"Vishante Kaffas!" Evelyn spat. "He stays with me. My catch. My spoils."

The mage lowered her hood, revealing short gray hair and fierce icy blue eyes, glowering at Evelyn's shadowed face. "Fine. He's Fereldan filth anyway. You three," she pointed at two of the armed men and one of the mages, "take him to Caer Bronach and toss him in the cell with others." She turned towards Evelyn, "He'll still be there when we get back. YOU are coming with me to help me find this so-called Herald of Andraste." The men around her moved swiftly, grabbing Cullen by his pauldrons and jerking him to his feet. "There is another cave south of here if we can avoid the dragon. It would be a wise refuge considering the beast at the front door," Evelyn knew the grey venatori was still talking, but all she could focus on were Cullen's wrists closed in cold iron, his boots dragging across the dirty floor, the staff prodding at him like cattle, "but it's a shallow little thing. If she knows the area well, she is likely moving along the underground caverns avoiding us." They rounded the corner and were gone.

"The southern caves," she nodded.

The older woman tapped her staff to the ground and turned on heel, covering her head once more, "Step to it." Evelyn stooped to grab Cullen's sword and managed to snag the sheath and dagger as they exited. She tucked the dagger into the bodice beneath her robe and returned his blade to its home, drawing the attention of the guardsman. She immediately offered it to him, trying not to draw any (more) suspicion.

"Another piece of pointy metal for you to wave in my face," she added in her smuggest tone. He snatched it up, eyed the hilt, tested the weight, and tossed it back at her.

"You carry it. I'm not assigned your guard."

Evelyn fumbled with the large blade, grumbling under her breath, while hiding a self satisfied smirk beneath her hood. She followed along in silence, quietly contemplating her next move.


	2. Chapter 2

They opened the rusty metal door, whining against the hinge, and tossed Cullen to the hay strewn floor, stripped of his armor and dignity. He heard the door slam, the jangling of keys, the click of the lock, and rustling feet around him.

He opened his eyes slowly, head pounding from their interrogation. _They will not have her._ The footsteps grew quieter as the guards left the room. Cullen felt two huge hands lift him to a seated position.

"Up you go," Bull said with a grunt, leaning Cullen against the black bars.

"Damn, Curly, they really did a number on you," Varric said eyeing Cullen's puffy eye, his swollen lips smeared with drying blood, the red lump growing on his head. He placed two gloved fingers on his chin and gently pushed his face to the side, admiring the tender purple skin at his neck, "did they do that, too?" Cullen slapped his hand away, defensively.

"That's a love bite alright, I'm never wrong about that sort of thing." Bull ribbed at him, "you let one of these Vints have their way with you."

"Maker's breath," Cullen buried his face in his hands.

"Did you see her?" Dorian's unusually brittle voice jerked Cullen's attention. "Did you see Evie out there? Do they have her? Is she hurt?" The Iron Bull placed a reassuring hand on Dorian's bare shoulder.

Cullen looked around the room for betraying ears. Charter sat in the corner of the cell picking her nails. They were stuffed in a corner, surrounded by half walls housing giant barrels, but seemed surprisingly unguarded. "Are we alone?" He whispered to them. Dorian nodded, worried eyes drilling into him. Charter's pointed ears pricked up, also awaiting news of the Herald. "She is well. Last I saw her. Her ankle is healed. She is traveling under Tevinter guise amongst a small party of Venatori. I expect her here by nightfall." He looked around again trying to find any signs of the daylight outside. "Whenever that may be."

Dorian threw his hands into the air, "And then what? She dies in a valiant effort to save us? What's the plan, precisely?!"

Cullen lowered his head, "I really don't know."

Varric tried to diffuse the situation, "Look Sparkler, see that door over there, on the other side is sweet freedom. This is the path I took with the Seeker and Chuckles to drain Old Crestwood. Once we are all together, we go out that door, down the hill, and into the dankest hellpit ruin you've ever smelled."

"And kick any vint ass that gets in our way!" Bull added with a pump to his chest.

Dorian just puffed an aggravated sigh and turned towards the metal bars, arms crossed tightly against his chest. "I still think we should have let Charter pick the lock and made a run for the escape tunnels."

"I liked that plan," the spy seconded.

"Right," grumbled Iron Bull, "you'd get dragged back here looking like Cullen."

Cullen shot him a pointed glare. "We stick together," Varric interjected. "We agreed. At least now we know we don't need to storm the whole fortress looking for her."

Charter stood and wiped her hands on her trousers. "We know nothing. If you want answers, let me poke around a bit. I know every dark corner of this place." The men looked at each other, exchanging glances, and nodded in agreement. "Great, I'll be back before you can say 'Andraste's jumping Druffalo.'" She strode to the door, but Varric was already there.

"Allow me," he bowed, pushing the door open before her.

"Show off," scoffed Dorian at the dwarf as the slender elf stepped to the floor. She pressed herself into the wall, gave them a quick nod, and disappeared into the shadows. The door to the keep opening and closing a few seconds later. Varric pulled the barred door closed and picked at the lock until it was set again. "And if they come looking for her?"

"She slipped out," Varric shrugged, "Tiny little thing."

"My countrymen are cruel and cowardly, but not dullards."

"Give her a chance," Cullen chimed in, "Leliana's people are very good at what they do."

"You'd think they would have seen this coming, then." Bull snorted.

"Good point."

The next few hours passed by slowly. Varric told stories, but Cullen had a hard time keeping his attention away from the woman who had just handed him over to the Venatori. He wasn't really angry about it, considering their reputation a few bumps and bruises were nothing, but he feared she'd be discovered. He twirled a piece of hay between his fingertips as Varric wrapped up another tale and Bull ignited into laughter. Dorian seemed equally aloof, fingers laced in the metal bars, staring towards the back door.

"You two are really killing the vibe," Varric frowned.

"Perhaps if I had enough wine to drink myself into a stupor I could join you," Dorian tutted without looking towards them.

The door to the keep ripped open and four Venatori soldiers marched in. "You've been summoned," one directed to Cullen while unlocking the gate.

Iron Bull whooped quietly, greatly amusing himself, "Someone's ready for round two." Dorian swatted him, staring him down with a disapproving glare.

Cullen's grim face remained unchanged, he rose and waited for them to chain together the shackles on his wrists. Instead, they stood at his sides and escorted him out of the room.

Varric called to him as the door closed at his back, "you got this, Curly!"

 _Odd they didn't notice one of us was missing,_ thought Cullen as they ascended the stairs. Charter made it a point not to draw attention while she was caged.

They led him up another set of stairs to what looked like a small library, "Leave us," a voice ordered from the shelves. The men abandoned his side and locked them in the long room. "I hope you can forgive the Fereldan filth comment," said the grey mage emerging from behind a bookcase, "I only said it to throw off the trail." She was wearing a silken robe, still in black, flowing from her frail frame as she walked. She pressed a cold finger to his swollen lip, "sorry for that, too. It was necessary they roughed you up a bit. You understand."

Nausea grew in the pit of his stomach. He could feel the color drain from his face. "She won't be happy," his hoarse voice croaked of it's own will.

"And who's going to tell her?! You?! What did she do to deserve such loyalty from you?" The mage clawed at his scalp, jerking his head back, and pushing a pointed finger into his neck. "I see," she said slowly, eyeing the purple blemishes, "this was not a simple pleasure of the flesh. We have a traitor in our midst. I'll have you both executed in the courtyard, in front of -" calloused hands strangled the words from her throat.

Fury had engulfed Cullen, rage so thick and blinding all he could see was an image of the grey mage with a sword at Evelyn's throat. A sudden stabbing wave of electricity pulsed through his scalp, arcing to his toes and back again. He groaned against the pain and slammed her into a bookshelf, sending a few tomes to the floor. Snickering hit his ears, guards at the door. He tightened his grip and lifted her small figure from the floor, her hands prying useless at his fingers. He felt the buildup of magic in her palms and his templar mind took over, drawing the energy into him, rippling waves of power strengthening his body as he tore them from her. Her limbs went limp and he watched her eyes dim as the final flickers of life were snuffed out. He collapsed to the floor with her lifeless body. Panting, trembling drenched in sweat, buzzing with tension. "Fuck," he rubbed a hand over his glazed face, "I'm fucking dead."

He dragged the mage into the corner she had been hiding in when he first arrived and started looking around the room for useful items. He stashed a letter opener in his breeches and headed for the door. He knocked twice and when it was slightly ajar layered on the bullshit, "Mistress has asked for some time to rest. She wishes not to be disturbed." The man looked sideways at his fellow guardsman, then nodded and opened the door, allowing Cullen to freely exit. They accompanied him back down the stairs. Outside the prisoner's room, a hooded mage was waiting, her hand heavy on the shoulder of the tiny woman before her. Charter's head was hung low, hood covering most of her face, but as Cullen approached she met his eye, fierce, cunning, no sign of surrender. _What is she planning?_

"One got out?" The guard behind Cullen asked in an alarmed voice, opening the door and pushing him forward.

The woman nudged Charter through the door allowing the guards to enter before following behind, "Who was assigned this post?"

Cullen's eyes lit up as her voice fell on his ears. That accent is fake.


	3. Chapter 3

Evelyn's heartbeat played like a war drum in her ears, so deafening she almost didn't hear the whispers amongst her imprisoned party members.  
  
"Shit, she got caught."  
  
"Well, this doesn't bode well."  
  
"Vint Bastards."  
  
One of the guards lingered beside Cullen while the other grabbed Charter roughly by the arm and dragged her towards the cage, fumbling with key ring at his belt. "Shut up in there!" He bellowed banging a fist of jangling keys against the bars. Returning to an appropriate tone he begrudgingly replied to the question Evelyn had forgotten she asked, "We were instructed to double the search parties. Regretably, we left this post abandoned. Should have known better with the rattus and grey ox in here." Evelyn's eye lids flew towards her hairline, flushing and stunned, fearful of what actions the slurs would elicit from her friends. She swept her eyes around the room, surveying her squad, heavy tension hanging in the air.  
  
The Bull let out a low growl, lowering his head towards the man. Charter sunk her hand into her overcoat, nimble fingers wrapping around the dagger Evelyn had given her. Cullen tensed his back and shoulders, prepared for a skirmish. Varric was pushing up his sleeves and tugging at his gloves. And Dorian. Dorian scared her most of all. Anger rolling off his shoulders like steam, hatred boiling in the heat of his face. She was drawn into his eyes, now black as his pointed brows. She could sense the magic building in his hands, energy thrumming more [and more] rapidly from palm to palm until a purple blast pushed her back, her arms shielding her face. She overcompensated, the blast disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and she fell forward, flat on her stomach and forearms. She looked up from under her hood, time standing still, and then, suddenly, everything happened very fast.  
  
Charter withdrew her hand from her jacket, swift, angular, jagged motions: the glint of steel, the crack of bone, a cry of pain, ebony knees buckled and the bloodied Venatori fell, blade lodged in his ribs. A gurgled howl and odd war cry whip her head and attention towards Cullen, his hands covered in blood. What did he do? How did I miss an attack that fast? What in the void is happening? Still spurting blood from the neck, the officer draws his sword on Cullen and her heart throttles her chest. She throws a hand out towards them, freezing the swordsman midswing.

"Ha-youmissed," the words speed past her ears just as Bull charges through the iced figure, shattered shards scattering to all corners of the room. He turns towards her, readying for his next attack. Her heart stops dead.

A large, crimson hand grabs his upper arm, "No, Bull." The world starts to catch up with the words, and her mind, with the world.

The Iron Bull roars, slamming his fists into his heavy greaves and huffing until he has breath to speak. "Is that your Vint, Cullen?" He turns a little red, and his lips part, but he says nothing, clearly not sure how to answer. "I'll take that as a yes. Guess that means you didn't miss."

Charter saunters over wiping blood from Cullen's dagger and offers her a hand up, Evelyn finally notices the trampled man lying by the cage. "No, she got who she was aiming for." Evelyn can feel the confused eyes boring into her as she takes Charter's hand and rises to her feet. "Isn't that right, Inquisitor?"

"No, Shit," the dwarf's usual stunned response falls from his mouth as he steps over Qunari road kill.

With a tentative smile and shaky hands, Evelyn pulls down her hood. "Surprise," she says meekly, meeting Varric's eye, then turning to address the group. "I thought you needed a rescue. Almost ended up like that guy. Turns out you lot are far more dangerous than the Venatori," she laughs, soft and genuine.

"Er, sorry, Boss."

She waves him off, "I'd have tried to kill me, too. I'm just glad Dorian didn't start hurling lightning at me. Suppose that haste spell left him a little drained," she glanced his way through the corners of her eyes. She can feel the weight of his stare and see the smirk resting below his twitching moustache. "Certainly not something I want to be on the receiving end of ever again."

"It has it's merits," the Tevinter smirks.

Evelyn and Bull both grin, exchanging quick glances, she smiles wider at the smitten dom.

It doesn't go unnoticed. Not with friends like these. Luckily, their current station was one they were all eager to leave behind, and everyone lets it pass without note, preparing for departure. Another lingering gaze burns her now. She looks up to meet Cullen's eyes, bloodshot and puffy, battered, black and blue. She mouths "I'm sorry" and his injured lips crack into a jagged half smile.

Ushering everyone towards the back door, she sorts out the details of the escape in her mind.  _Charter and Varric should go first. Being rogues, they have the best shot at reaching the supply cache and arming themselves without being seen._ "Charter, check the door."

Charter moved toward the back and eased the door open, carefully inspecting it for traps. Satisfied, she peered out to the early evening sky and sloping hills. "Door is free of traps, Inquisitor."

"Good. We're moving out."

"I can't leave Biance behind."

"Charter and I already raided the armory and storehouse. She's waiting for you in the cavern down the hill," Evelyn winked.

"You would have made a damn fine rogue."

Evelyn laughed heartily, "No, no Varric, I think it's more likely I'd lose a few fingers."

"You'd still be fine," Bull's deep timbre rumbled.

Evelyn smiled with her eyes, knowing his compliment was sincere, "thanks, Bull." She put on her inquisitor face and took on an authoritative tone, "We'll go in pairs. Charter you have Cullen's dagger and Dorian and I can still throw fire, so at least we're not completely unarmed against Maker knows what. Varric, Charter, you're up first. Head straight for the cave entrance and keep out of sight."

The rogues knodded in understanding and silence fell over the room. Charter slowly opened the door and disappeared into a cloud of smoke.  
"Varric, wait a few moments," her disembodied voice whispered, "there is a small group walking by the dam right now." The door widened and silently closed, the shimmering mist before it, gone.

"Neat trick," snorted Bull.

Dorian approached the group, entwining an arm in Evelyn's and leading her to a (semi) private chat. "Don't think I didn't notice our pairings, you sly minx," he teased in a hushed voice, coming to rest in front of her.

"I thought you and Bull might like to spend more time together."

"Right, all about me, then. Normally, that would work, but this is too deliciously rare of a delicacy not to indulge in. So, _please_ , indulge me."

"Later, with lots of wine."

"AH- You do know the way to my heart," he smiled fondly at her. His expression soon changed, a brief curiosity, then utter shock, as his jaw fell open. "Evie!" he chided quietly, reaching out for her thick mane to fluff around her neck, "Andraste's Holy Underthings, Were you hanged?!"

Her hand shot to her neck, fingers gently playing at the tender skin. "Is it bad?" She grimaced.

"I'd say not," he smiled wryly, earning a light smack on the arm.

"Dorian!"

"Heading out, Inquisitor."

Evelyn whipped around to face Varric, slightly flushed, she forced a stern look to her face, "watch your ass out there." Grinning, the dwarf dipped his head and slid out the door.

"All he does is watch asses all day long anyway," Bull chuckled to himself.  
Evelyn tilted her head towards bull, raising a brow at Dorian. He grumbled a silent sigh, but played along anyway, adding a retort loud enough for Bull to hear, "sounds like something you'd be interested in."

"Oh, you're back? I guess the inquisitor keeps your sense of humor in her pocket."

Evelyn clenched her jaw. _Ouch_. "No worse than your testicles in the palm of Madame De Fer." Her jaw went slack, mouth gaping, until she willfully closed it with the clink of her teeth. Cullen was coughing (laughing?) a fit somewhere nearby. She couldn't look to see which until she was certain Dorian wasn't going to be killed.

Bull turned to look over his shoulder with his good eye, a grunt somewhere between approval and anger rumbling from his chest. "Good to have you back, Mage."

Dorian slid past her with a wink, swaggering towards the door. "Ready to potentially die unarmed at the hands of my kinsman?"

"Yeah, sure, let's do this thing. As long as they don't summon any demons."

Evelyn crossed the room towards them, "Bull, if you get caught, you run like hell. This isn't about fighting. I'll take you to hit stuff later."

Dorian rolled his eyes at her, "always the mother hen," and moved towards the door, creaking it open to look for a quiet moment. He motioned for Bull to follow and they slipped out together, hand-in-hand, bringing a smile across her whole face.

"You're extra smiley."

"Didn't you see? Oh, nevermind, just silly little things that make girls smile."

"I like it when you smile." Her grin returned. "Just like that," he purred, swooping an arm around her waist.

She sighed contentedly, arching her back into him and holding him around the shoulders. "I like when you smile, too," she whispered softly, lightly kissing his wounded lip. "I hope it doesn't hurt you," she pouted.

"I'll live," he breathed dramatically, "alas, there will be permanent damage."

"Oh no!" mock horror hanging on words that land between gentle kisses, "whatever shall we do?" Moving down his jaw, "is there no cure?" To the lobe of his ear, "Will the maker hear my prayers?"

"Evelyn," Cullen's throaty complaint begins, "Can I ask you something?"

 _That's not what I expected to hear_.

 ***CRASH*** from the inner keep jolts them apart.

"We need to go."


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh shit."

They run for the door and slam it open.  
  
"The prisoners have escaped!"  
  
"FUCK." Evelyn's hand drifts out, with a lazy sway of the arm she cast a protective barrier around Cullen and herself. As soon as they met sunlight fireballs and lightning bolts hailed down from the battlements. Cullen pulled her closer, hand at the small of her back as they darted down the hill. In her haste, she slipped in the muddy slope, pulling them both to the ground and sending them tumbling together towards the bottom, one over the other.

"Ugh," he groaned atop her when they finally came to a stop. "Are you okay?"

"Bumped and bruised," she breathed, "but I'll be fine. I can think of worse ways to wind up," she bit her bottom lip as if she'd said too much.

"Can't you two wait five minutes?" Varric appeared above their heads, toting weapons, supplies, and food.

"It's not -" Cullen started, rose-tinted already, "We weren't -"

"Sure, sure, deny it now. I've seen everything I need to, Curly."

"Maker's breath," Cullen grumbled, crawling off her and holding his head.

"They all know," Evelyn sighed, shaking her own head and moving to sit up, "Don't ask me how, but they do. They can read me like an open tome."

"It's a gift."

"Ben Hassrath."

"Oh, please," sassed Dorian emerging from the flooded cavern, "you tell me everything anyway."

"Not EVERYTHING."

"Well, we'll have to amend that," Dorian looked straight at Cullen, "Promptly."

"Hey Boss, does this mean I won the bet?"

 _Bet_? Cullen's brow furrowed. _I was a bet?_

"Bull! We didn't exactly discuss that, yet. We'll talk about it later, hmm?"

"Oh, sorry Boss."

"Ok group, let's get going." Evelyn turned to talk to Cullen, aware he was owed an explanation. He was busy snatching pieces of armor from Varric and hurredly strapping them on. She could sense the anger in his movement and decided not to advance empty handed.

Charter was carrying her staff, Cullen's sword and the satchel Evelyn had filled with potions and enough clean clothing for the whole crew. She thought longingly of the hot springs where they usually stopped to rest, bathe and wash their garments. She strapped her staff to her back, picked up his sword, and cautiously walked towards him. He looked up at her for a moment as she approached, but quickly went back to staring at anything else, the straps on his armor, buttons on his shirt, mud on his boots.

"I managed to hang on to your sword."

"Talent of yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Oh, _Inquisitor-dear_ , are we leaving? I suggest we make haste before we come face to face with some very angry cultists," Dorian's impatience was, at the very least, practical.  
  
"We'll discuss this later," she hissed, shoving the blade to his chestplate.

"And I'm sure everyone will hear about that too. Everyone's so brilliantly subtle around here."

She only growled and turned away, switching immediately to a obnoxiously high, sunshiny voice, "Coming!" She huffed after the mage, who caught her at the elbow once she was close.  
  
"Trouble in paradise, already? I can't wait for you to tell me all about it," he whispered, far too pleased, and released the growing storm to lead the group.  
  
Charter followed just behind her, Cullen and Varric took the rear, and in between, Bull and Dorian bickered about who caused them to get caught.  
  
"Some spy."

"We leave that kind of spying to the elves. I'm better at the lying."

"Is that really a wise thing to be telling me?"

"Would you prefer I lie?"

"You're so good that I can't tell the difference?"

"Yep"

"Then, Absolutely. Tell me all is right with the world for once. Tell me my people aren't to blame for Corypheus and the blight and the black city. Tell me it's raining fine wine and antivan cheese."

"They have to be believable lies."

"Then tell me I'm the most remarkably handsome, charming, and talented mage you've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"You know I'd never lie about that."  
  
"I can't believe this is happening right in front of me and I have no way to write it down."

"You have plans to dedicate an entire series to me? Because I want royalties."

"Nothing of the sort, Tiny."

"It would be a best seller. You could call it 'Greatswords and Warhammers' like your first one. But with twice the sex and half the plot."

"Why bother with any plot at all? Every scenario can just start with you dragging someone into some particularly uninhabited area, tossing them against a wall, and -"

"Dorian." Evelyn's warning cut through the group, remarkably reminiscent of his father, "that's quite enough back there."

"Maker's mercy," Cullen exhaled quietly, staring deliberately at the ground.

"Hrmph. Says you. We were just getting to the good part."

The crew made short work of the few lingering demons they ran into along the lake, cutting them down before everyone even got a hit in. Evelyn couldn't say she minded letting someone else handle the baddies for a while, casting a few protective spells was fine with her. She wondered if Cullen noticed she kept casting a barrier around him. If he had, he wasn't acknowledging it, or her, or much of anything.   
  
The group reached the mayor's old house and hooked a right to head up the steep hill for the forward camp. Evelyn was leaning heavily against her staff, "We ought to be able to get some horses from camp and ride back to Skyhold." She smiled at her feet, thankful her voice had not revealed how weary she was.  
  
"I'm not so sure about that, Inquisitor," Varric's grim tone brought her eyes from her feet. Looking up she saw dark  smoke rolling off the mountain top.  
  
"No." She gripped the sides of her face, memories of the bloodied campsite at Three Trout Farm flashing before her eyes, "no, no, no." She took off up the hill with renewed fervor, scaling the incline in leaping strides. The others followed suit, Varric's legs working double time just to keep up.  
  
Evelyn stopped at the edge of the campsite, Cullen and Charter the first ones at her side. "Maker," he breathed.  
  
The red tents were burned to the spokes, the tables flipped and charred, the supplies missing or smashed to the ground. "No bodies," Evelyn panted, as the rest of party huffed up behind her, "they have a vantage point here. Probably saw it coming and retreated."  
  
"Our evacuation may've warned them before that," Charter suggested.  
  
"This does not bode well for our 'ride' back to Skyhold," Dorian muttered.  
  
"Nope. Should have worn your walking boots, Sparkler."  
  
"Ha! As if I'd own something so fashionably destitute."  
  
Evelyn sighed heavily, "Come on, we need to get out of here and find a place to camp by nightfall. That doesn't leave us much time." She picked through the rubble for any intact vials or usable cloth, and set off through the trees towards the unclaimed wilderness.  
  
An hour into the pines, they came to a small river. She walked along its edge until the trees gave way to a small clearing of soft grasses. The sky was turning orange as the sun fell. "We will camp here tonight. Bull, Cullen, see what you can wrangle up for shelter."  
  
"You got it, Boss." Cullen glanced sideways at his assigned partner, seeming none to happy about being on the receiving side of orders, but following him towards a group of downed trees, nontheless.  
  
"Charter, Varric, I want you to sweep the perimeter, look for any signs of danger, rig up some traps if you can manage it. Bring back firewood." They both nodded, heading towards the thicker forest.  
  
"Dorian, you and I are going fishing."  
  
"Ewwwww, Evie, you know I don't fish."  
  
"Just help me blow them up," she rolled her eyes, "I'll scoop them out."  
  
"Well, why didn't you say so."  
  
Evelyn pulled the black robe up over her head and tossed it over a branch, then slipped her aching feet out of her thick, over-sized boots and slowly dipped them into the frigid water. It was soothing on the swollen parts, but stung where the skin had rubbed raw. She stepped into the center of the stream and a cupped a few gulps of water to her mouth.  
  
"Alright, go upstream and hit a few with some firebolts. They'll float up and I'll toss them out." Dorian made his way against the running water. "Just don't electrocute me!" She called out.  
  
"Oh, well where's the fun in that?" he teased. Evelyn smiled at him, unaware of the eyes watching her from the distance.  
  
"Of course," Cullen muttered under his breath, "How could I be so stupid."  
  
"You want to talk about it?" The Iron Bull hacked at several logs, notching them out to build a roof.  
  
"NO." Cullen's bitterness surprised even him. "I'm sorry. I'd rather it was me over there so we could talk about... things."  
  
"Like your wild love making?" Cullen's eyes narrowed to slits. "You southerners make everything so complicated," Bull shook his head, "Qunari don't have sex for love, but if they did they wouldn't dance around each other too afraid to speak or act. Especially you Fereldans - allergic to admitting you have feelings."

"So sex is always just sex to you?"

"It has been. That started changing here recently. _Someone_ has been changing it."

Cullen looked back towards Evelyn, feeling like she was slipping away from him. _She's surrounded by suitors._ "That's not really comforting, Bull," he glared.

"Hmph. I wish you were over there too. Company would be better."


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen and Iron Bull finished most of their work in silence, speaking only to coordinate the assembly of Bull's 4-post design. The shelter was wedged between needled trees which acted as walls, blocking the wind. They had laid logs across the top to create a roof, covering it with needles in case of rain.  The bed of the shelter was mostly grass and moss, a few soft leaves.  
  
"We'll need a fire to keep warm tonight," Cullen threw a few sticks into a pile near the structure.  
  
"Or a mage," Bull raised his eyebrows, suggestively, getting only an aggravated huff in reply.  
  
Varric and Charter strolled up each carrying a large armful of branches and tossed them onto the pile. "Looks good, boys," Charter tipped her hood. Night was quickly setting in.  
  
"Where are the Inquisition's favorite apostates?" Varric rubbed his palms together, "let's get this fire blazing."  
  
Cullen looked to the river where Evelyn had been earlier, but saw only her black robe dangling in the breeze. Worry and Envy battled in his gut as he eyed the rest of the deserted bank. "I'm sure they'll be back at any moment," he said flatly, turning his attention to the task of arranging firewood.  
  
Varric met Bull's eye, sending him a wordless cue, "C'mon, Charter, I'll help you get some logs that might actually last through the night. Not these twigs Varric found."  
  
Varric waited for the horned giant and hooded rogue to get out of earshot before easing into counsel. "So.... you seem a little tense since we left Crestwood."  
  
"I'm always tense."  
  
"More than usual. Especially considering you recent ...stress relieving activities."  
  
Disgust curled Cullen's lips and nose into a snarl. "If anything, those actions have caused me quite a bit more stress."  
  
"I could be wrong, Curly, but from where I'm standing, it looks like it's been your actions since the Inquisitor tried to rescue us. You've reached Ice Mastery of the cold shoulder."  
  
"Rescue? Is that what you think? I was some damsel in distress? I wouldn't have needed a damn rescue if she hadn't personally handed me over to the Venatori in the first place." _Now, why did you say that? That's not what this about and you know it_. "Varric, I think it's best I wait to discuss the matter further with the Inquisitor."  
  
"You're right," Varric conceded, "she would be the best one to talk to. But I want you to know you can talk to me too. And if a very similar thing happens in one of my stories later down the line, pure coincidence."  
  
Cullen suppressed the smile that threatened his angsty demeanor and resumed his brooding. "Appreciated."  
  
"Don't mention it."  
  
Evelyn's high pitched laughter caught their attention, both of them peering through the near dark to find the source. Cullen spotted Dorian first, running his direction, then Evelyn just a step behind taunting him with a fish. "Don't you want another kiss?"  
  
"Evelyn Jade you are being entirely juvenile!" She pushed the fish towards his mouth, "Get that thing away from me!" She burst into laughter once more, gripping her side as Dorian stumbled away. "REALLY. Of all the childish things you've done to me."  
  
"C'mon, Dorian, it's just a fish. I've got a slew of them. We need to skin them up for dinner."  
  
"I'm not touching that putrid, scaly, bottom feeder. Get your boyfriend to do it."  
  
Evelyn fell silent. Even just listening from afar, Cullen felt his cheeks turn pink. He watched her tuck her hair behind her ear and say something back to Dorian, too quiet for him to hear. She rubbed her arm and disappeared behind the tree line, returning with a string of trout. Dorian lit the end of his staff and guided their way to the campsite, keeping a few good strides ahead of her. Before he could even sit down, Varric was at Dorian's side.  
  
"Sparkler! That light trick will come in remarkably handy right now. I need your help finding Bull and Charter. It's quite dark and they're in the forrest. You'll help? Great, let's go!" Dorian smiled knowingly and twirled around towards the woods.  
  
"Hmm," Evelyn tapped her chin, "how conspicuous."  
  
"I told you they are bad at subtlety."

She smiled tentatively. "Want to help me make dinner?"  
  
_Want to help me make sense of all this?_ "Sure."  
  
Evelyn held out a hand and lit the cone shaped pyre Cullen had created near their hut. She laid a fish out on a flat stone and looked around the site, "You have a dagger?"  
  
Cullen twirled the blade in his fingers and stabbed the fish below the gills. "Just the one. Honor is all yours," he said dryly.  
  
She looked up at him shyly. "I'm not very good at this part. I always have Cassandra do it when we travel."  
  
Cullen felt a twinge of guilt, "Let me show you." He walked her through the proper techniques for scaling, de-boning, and fileting. He held her hands at times and corrected her when she began to slice in the wrong direction. "You'll get better with practice," he smiled as they finished up the last one and skewered the meat onto a stick, lying their completed work on the rock and disposing of the reaking remnants far from camp, making light conversation of their favorite dishes when time allows for flavor over sustenance.  
  
They walked to the river to wash their hands. "I'm glad you're talking to me again." She smiled slightly, then her lips turned down, "I'm sorry our private matters became so public so quickly." His face fell as she apologized. _Is that not why he's upset?_ "And I'm sorry about forcing you to go with the Venatori. I panicked. I thought they would have killed us otherwise." Still nothing. _Shit! What is it?_ "And I'm sorry for making you incredibly uncomfortable and apparently abhorrently unhappy," her voice cracked as she pushed herself up. "I'll leave you be, Commander." She hurried across the river, unable to hold back the hot tears streaming down her face.  
  
Cullen jumped up, unmoving in his momentary shock, willing his body to react. _Go after her_! She ducked into the trees and Cullen's legs finally stepped forward. He followed hurredly, mind blank except for her, darkness closing in around them. "Evelyn. Evelyn. Evelyn, wait!" She didn't wait. She didn't even hesitate. He had to sprint to catch her arm, which she jerked away quickly, turning her back towards him.  
  
_Don't let him see you cry,_ she thought, staring into the cold, dark night. He reached out and lightly touched her elbow, she pulled away angrily, "what do you want?"  
  
"Answers."  
  
Taken aback, "to what?"  
  
He shifted his weight, trying to decide what to say. "What am I?"  
  
"A man. An ass. A commander..."  
  
"To you?"  
  
"Still an ass."  
  
He heaved a deep, melodramatic sigh. "Is that all I am? Just a piece of ass?"  
  
She whipped around to face him, cheeks flushed and damp, eyes puffy, lashes wet. "That's not what I meant," She glared. "I said you're an ass. Like the whole thing. Especially the puckered center part that sits in the split." Cullen choked on his tongue hearing her detailed insult.  
  
Her eyes burned into him and he pulled himself together under her heated glare. Freshly composed he tried a more heart felt approach, "Those things you apologized for, those don't bother me all that much. What bothers me is the uncertainty. The insecurity. The fear that I am more vested in this than you. The thought of sharing you with another person. The worry that, whatever this is, it's just begun and it's already over."  
  
She stared through narrowed eyes, "Why do you keep insinuating I am having relations with someone else?"  
  
"Aren't you?!" Evelyn's eyebrows shot up. "You're always exchanging looks or sneaking off or having 'private chats'. You spend plenty of late nights in the tavern back at skyhold and Maker knows what you get into on these long excursions. Its all pretty obvious to anyone with eyes. My concern being..." he sighs loudly, finally catching the breath that has been running away with his words. He starts again, with the stern tone he uses to punctuate an order, "I know it's commonplace among nobility to have multiple dalliances, but that is not a scenario I can be happy playing out. You must choose, Inquisitor."  
  
Evelyn stared at him with unreadable expression, brain reeling, still trying to click the pieces into place. His heart assailed his chest while he waited for a response, seconds crawling by.  
  
"So what your saying," she felt obliged to fill the silence, though she was still dazed, "is that you want me to see you exclusively."  
  
"THAT'S RIGHT." He affirmed.  
  
"And so, you want me to stop sleeping with..." she tried to bring her voice to an even kilt, "Dorian?"  
  
"And The Iron Bull," he glared, "or anyone else you may have entanglements with for that matter."  
  
"Maker, you must think the world of me," she couldn't hold back the indignant tone any longer.  
  
"It's not my place to judge, Inquisitor."

"And now it's _Inquisitor_. Tell me, how does one go from asking me if I'm a VIRGIN to thinking I'm bedding a FUCKING QUNARI?"

He turned his head, unable to meet her eye. He immediately regretted the barely audible response that crawled from his mouth "I don't know, slut magic?"

Her eyes lit up like swirling flames, her right hand flying into the air, forming a fist, and slamming down as a specular rock fist appeared above him and copied her movement, crushing him into the hazardous forest floor.

"GAHH!" He crumpled like paper, fingers twitching as the force dissipated and he watched her storm away. His head thudded against the dirt. "Fuck me," he groaned, though he knew she couldn't hear, "And fuck your magic."


End file.
